And so I return to the blogging world

Hey gang,

I like saying that! I left this blog with 3 followers (one anon) and the odd few i knew read it from time to time if they had nothing better to do. I left it after I realised no-body would really miss it. But I missed it. I missed it a lot. And I see a few of you came along in the mean time and decided to follow it. Nice to see you here, and sorry I haven't blogged in a few months!

Being tired and worn out, today is not the day to write epic come back blog post

I will post soon, this weekend in fact.

In the mean time I'll be sleeping, being a mum, and checking out your blogs.

x

One night at the movies long ago...

How often do we go to the cinema with family after we reach the age of 16? I don't just mean the odd mother and daughter trip to see the latest Romantic comedy, or a mum taking the kids to see a Disney Pixar. Its a rare thing I'm sure. But when it does happen, its bound be memorable for good or bad reasons. For me, one night at the movies in late Decemeber 1997, was a night I will never forget.

James Cameron's Titanic. If there ever was a film that could appeal to all ages, this was it. Mum didn't often go to the cinima, but she kept up to date with what was showing. For her a good film consisted of a traditional tried and tested romantic plot, complete with love, tragedy, and an obligatory sex scene. Leo and Kate looked good to go, so she announced that she wanted to be taken. Now usually this is the husbands job, but my dad never could see the point of the cinema. He liked old films which were always played in abundance on tele, and if they wasn't he would buy the video. Mum never went out much, so he enjoyed a rare oppotunity to hog the tele and be on in his own company when she went. This left mum in the capable hands of my God Father Bill, who had loved my mother since he met her as a young woman. Lonely, unmarried, and like a second father to me, he was invited to share in everything the family did. He gladly took mum to the cinima when ever she wanted to go, dressed in a suit, and smelling of 'Old Spice' aftershave. As usual he jumped at the chance to take her. 

It turned out that mum hadn't mentioned what she was going to see, because I was talking to dad just before she went out. "Titanic? now I would have liked to see that" he said. "Why don't you join them?" I said. So he agreed and went to put on his suit. 

I was smiling at this suit business, getting suited and booted for the cinema? No man had ever put on a suit to take me to the cinema. "Why don't you get dressed up to take me to the pictures then?" I asked my fiancée who was lounging lazily in an old pair of tracksuit bottoms next to me. "Don't you love me just the way I am?" he said. "No. Go and get scrubbed up. your taking me to see titanic tonight." I said. And that was that, amazingly he did what he was told! (it was early on in our relationship, he was still eager to please) 

As for me, I quite fancied Titanic. I'm not usually a fan of huge budget, over hyped stuff, but Leo is nice to look at, and I was intrigued as to whether it really was gonna be as good as it was hyped up to be. Besides, I had just discovered I was pregnant. At just 18, I was a little shaken up with this discovery. An evening out with my family would do me good. 

So there we all were, Me, My Fiancée, Mum, Dad, and Bill. All sat in the front row cause that's what mum liked. I was in the middle, with a huge box of sweet popcorn. Mum sat on my left, with a huge supply of sweets. Mum is one of them people who have to eat constantly through a film, munching, sucking, and rustling sweets wrappers. . She is a compulsive sweet passer, you know the type. 

They pass up the line, then back again. 5 mins later it happens again. If you say no, they get offered again on the next round. Say no twice, and she will rummage around producing another kind to try and tempt you. It went on until dad got frustrated and announced “No I do not want a sweet. Not now, not later. If I change my mind I’ll tell you.” Mum sulked for a bit. A few minutes later Bill cheered her up by saying “ooooh chocolate éclairs, I’ll have one of those!”  Matt my fiancé sat the other side of me, and next to him my dad. I smiled to myself; it was nice sat there between all these people who loved me. With my unborn baby inside me, and a shiny new engagement ring on my finger, I sighed with contentment.

Now to understand how I feel about Titanic, I must first explain how I feel about films. I am absorbed by films, watching a film is an intense emotional experience. I am the type that laughs hysterically, and cry’s just as hysterically in the cinema. I experience everything. I jump out of my seat when something unexpected happens, and often feel depressed for hours after a sad ending. It is for that reason that I shy away from anything to emotionally draining or depressing. Let’s face it, so many of the big blockbusters these days are full of tragedy and so called excitement. I watch them if I'm persuaded enough, but It’s a stressful experience! For a light evenings entertainment I stick to Romantic comedies. Titanic for me was amazing and awful all at once. It was made emotionally bearable by the dream scene at the end where Rose rejoins Jack on the staircase. I wasn’t to realise then, but I will never forget that night at the movies. It was to be a hugely significant night, for many reasons.

The first was the romance of Jack and Rose. 

Who can look at this picture and not believe they were completely and utterly in love? Oh how I craved that feeling, sat there in that cinema. I loved Matt, but I know deep down it wasn't right. I wasn't 'in love' with him at all, and it was that night that I realised it. But with our baby inside me I pushed the thought away.It was too late. I would have to make the best of it. But oh how I craved a love like Jack and Rose shared. Love making like the steamy car window scene...

Incidently this scene was rather uncomfortable in the company of my parents. You know how it is at family things when your all watching TV and someone's having sex? Dad coughs, mum keeps overly straight face whilst flushing a little, then somebody makes a comment in an attempt to break the tension. In this case My dad said "do they still serve ice creams in the interval?" 

The memory of this scene prompted me to stand strong and break up with Matt 3 years ago. As he stood on the doorstep begging to come back home, I levelled with him and said "It was never right between us, it should have been so much more. We both deserve to go out and find it." All with the picture of that hand slapped up against a steamy window in the forefront of my mind. It was the right thing to do. 

The other embarrassingly scene was the drawing scene.

I LOVED this scene! Kate made curves sexy. Being curvaceous myself, It brought about a new sense of appreciation of my own body. Having just came out of a phase of self concious paranoia, I started to feel good about the way I looked. I felt sexy and attractive. This scene also brought about an amusing memory I have with Matt.

Both being rather good at drawing, we decided to recreate this pose at home. I drew him, then he drew me. They were incredibly lifelike. We stored them rolled up in a cupboard down stairs in my parents house where we were living till a flat came up on the council list. 

A year or so later my aunts and uncles came round for Christmas. I will never forget entering the living room to find a shocked Aunt who had just unrolled the drawings. She had stumbled on them when mum asked her to have a look in the cupboard for a blown up photo of my new baby. After the initial shock and explanation, the whole family was in hysterics, The pictures were just so life like that it was as embarrassing as a naked photo being found!

It was that year that I brought my dad the soundtrack of Titanic for Christmas. He had been asking for it all year. He played it in the car whilst he drove me places. I loved it too, we talked about Titanic and the deeper themes running beneath the story line. When he died in March 2000, I played it and cried my heart out. This is our song: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtAPC3gwG_0

To me Titanic is about never letting go.

Its about making time count. Every second. If you watch it again, look out for the references to time, clocks, and hands. The film is full of them. Jack's philosophy of life was "Take life as it comes to you, to make each day count" 

Coincidently my life hit an iceberg at soon after this night at the movies. Metaphorically, the catastrophe played out in the final scenes of the ships sinking was adjacent to my own life over them next few years. Bill and Dad died. Mum has severe dementia. Matt and I are no longer together. 

But that night at the movies with my family taught me to grab life, hold it tight, cherish it, and hold on to the bitter end. To keep on playing like the band, to hold out my hands like the priest, giving all i have to offer. To carry on making every day count even when loved ones pass away. 

And when I am grey and old, I hope my life will play out like the final scenes. Pictures and signs of a life time of making time count all around me. At peace in the knowledge I have taken life by the reigns and made it worth while. I love how Rose drops 'the heart of the ocean' into the sea with a "whoops!" The significance here is that things that may be highly precious materially, actually count for nothing. To live life in search of materialistic wealth means we miss the true riches of life. 

Who knows if the last scene was a dream, or Rose dying. I think Cameron wanted it to be left open to interpretation. Its best that way. Either way if dying is anything like this scene, I'll be a happy bunny. 

Before I go, I just wanna say thank you to the 'kid in the front row' who suggested this post. As I mentioned previously, theres a few of us posting on the same topic today. I can't wait to read everybody else's. If you want to check them out, visit his blog:  http://kidinthefrontrow.blogspot.com/ 

Creative me.

"Hello everybody" or perhaps just "hello you", since 'everybody' seems far too broad a word to use for a blog with a tiny amount of followers.

Been busy, very busy. Plus every time I sit down to type a post, my husband asks me "what are you doing?" and when I tell him he asks me why I'm doing it. He does not understand creativity. He doesn't get art. He doesn't read, and he doesn't dream. About the closest he comes is quite enjoying a good film, or appreciating a life like painting of something pretty. Its not a problem in our relationship since I am a lone creator happy creating in my own little world.

 I sometimes stop dead in my tracks whilst out and take a random photo with my camera because a scene has captured me, or fall deep into contemplation on overhearing a passers by conversation. I can make almost anything. I knit, sew, bead, model, sculpt, paint, arrange, decorate, write, cook, design, draw, and play several instruments. I sum up my talent as a good all rounder, but brilliant at nothing. I love trying new things, for instance I made almost everything for my wedding, I really was in my element. The main excuse was the money it would save me. I wanted an expensive tiara, so decided to recreate it myself. Brought the beads, some wire, and googled tiara making. I twisted and clamped away for an evening and came up with these...

Flowers...

Table names... (instead of traditional numbers)

I could go on and on, from metres and metres of white bunting, to pocket fold invitations.

I do miss having time to indulge in some 'making time'. I will never forget the pleasure I got from a year in college studying design and textiles. Its a shame it all ended in personal disaster. Full time making, drawing, stitching, and beading was amazing.

So why didn't I make a career out of it you may ask? Well I never could stay with one thing, and that was the problem. I loved switching from one craft to another. From knitting my daughters first tiny wrap round cardigan, to painting a mural on my sons first bedroom wall.

I will continue to dabble creatively from time to time. Whatever comes about, I'll lay my creative hands to it with pleasure. My next project is my best friends Lisa's tiara. She gets wed next year, and has asked me to make it :)

And that's it for me, for now. I'll be back soon with something completely different on the 3rd December. A fellow blogger has suggested that a few of us to blog collectively on a theme. The title is "One Night At The Movies Long Ago"

I'm pretty excited actually, I have a really good memory to write about. It might just be worth a read so pop back and have a nose!

Long time no write!

So once again, I have failed to keep this thing updated. Was bound to happen. I am far to busy to do anything properly unfortunately! Even be a mother.

Yes I am suffering from working mother blues big time. The house is a tip, my kids look bedraggled, and they aren't getting their homework done on time. I guess this is to be expected when you have a large amount of children anyway, but It bothers me a lot. When I chose to have a large family I never wanted them to go without as a result. The reality is that they are fed (mainly on quick and easy meals that could be healthier) clothed (although somewhat creased through lack of ironing) clean (although this is often done with wet wipes whilst hurrying out of the door) and loved (and this I never scrimp on)

This week I have been suffering from a nasty infection in a dead wisdom tooth. It spread to my jaw and throat, and I have been feeling sick, feverish, swollen, and in a lot of pain. I had two days off this week, unable to do much but lay on the sofa becoming addicted to silly facebook games involving farming and running a cafe. Now I am back on my feet I am on a mission to gain order on my family.

Its hard watching the kids struggle with their homework, knowing I have the washing up, my own homework, and all the uniforms to wash. I hate the letters that come in from the school inviting me to parents evening on a night i'm needed in work. I hate leaving the house when the kids are sound asleep and arriving back when they are already in bed.

But in the grand scheme of things, I wouldn't be happy just staying at home. I felt depressed, unmotivated, and I clock watched waiting for the kids to come home from school. I might moan, but the time I spend with the kids now is so precious. They may not always be wearing an ironed shirt, but its clean, and they go to school wearing it telling their teachers how proud they are of their mum becoming a nurse. And they do it with a smile because they are loved and happy at home. They are healthy because even though their food is quick and easy, It always contains enough energy to keep em going and a good enough amount of fruit and veg.

Not wanting to be all doom and gloom I must add I am LOVING my present placement. I am working long hours so I usually only do 3 days a week.

Hmmm... now I got all that off my chest I actually think that Its not all that bad. Besides, I managed to iron all the kids clothes today. I made a Jamie Oliver recipe yesterday. I did their homework with them tonight.

Don't listen to me, I'm possibly due on my period or something lol

Nursing is great, being a mum is wonderful, everything is fine :)

Lets get back to some nursyness...

Aware that many recent postings have been pretty off topic, I wanna write about nursie stuff today.

We finished our child development module over a week ago now. As much as I liked Smiley

Stuart the unit leader, I was glad when it was finished. It wasn't that the unit was boring, but it was all the same sort of thing. Fascinating, but too many lectures all on one subject, with little time in between to reflect. A hand out in class prompted me to buy a fantastic book:

Reclaiming Childhood: Helene Guldburg

This is a powerful and passionate book that explains why so much of what we say about children is so wrong.’
-Professor Frank Furedi, author of Paranoid Parenting

‘Reclaiming Childhood is a lovely blend of developmental theory and
up-to-date research, a deep knowledge of children, and good old common
sense. This bracing book is a gift to children everywhere.’


I haven't had a chance to read much of it, but it looks facinating. Valuable from both a parents perspective, to a professional who works with children.


Straight after this unit we plunged straight into our first proper maths exam of the year. I discovered I actually really enjoy maths, now that I have a better basic understanding. You see, me and maths didn't really get on in recent years. I started off with a good basic knowledge as a youngster, then it all went wrong in year 9 at school. I was put into the top set after diagnostic testing. I lasted one lesson in this set. I didn't get what the teacher was teaching. I went home with some homework which I genuinely tried all night to do. The next day I went to the office to ask her about it, and she said if I couldn't understand it, and had worked all night on one question, then I shouldn't be in the group. And so I walked away accepting this fate. Big mistake, the lower class bored me so much that I lost all interest. And now because of my own lack of confidence in my ability, and one very untactful and unhelpful teacher, I have had to teach myself numeracy. And I kinda love it. Really! Never thought I would ever say that about Maths. I passed with 100% :) as did all of my friends, which we were all chuffed about.


Our new unit started last Monday. Its working with children and families, and I'm loving it. Its mixed in with the anatomy and physiology unit. We have covered philosophies of care, clinical stuff like assessing vital signs, and neurological observations. Calculating fluid requirements, and understanding what is going on physiology wise and how to treat it. I like it because we are learning the theory behind everything, and going into detail on the basics of nursing care. Its like taking the essence of the stuff learnt "on the job" last year to a new level. I can't wait to get out there and put it into practice. And on that note, placement is stating to creep up on me.


I start placement in a general children's ward, in a district hospital, in about a week and a half's time. I can't wait!!!! Its been so long since I was on a clinical placement, and I can't wait to put on my uniform and get nursing. I'm scarred too, this year there will be more expected of me on the wards. Looking forward to working with some of my friends too, most of us are all on the same ward. Another one is in A&E but at the same hospital. Last time I was on my own, so it will be nice to have friends around to share the experience with. And on that note, I'm really gonna have to finish here and get studying. This unit isn't over yet!

Community

Those of you who know me well, will also know I have my fingers in many pies.

I didn't realised the importance of community spirit until I moved to a small town that local councils forgot. Its one minute from a London Borough, and on the very edge of an other.

Since I moved in (literally) I have got myself stuck well into local affairs. Its a run down, nothingy area. Kids and grown ups alike have nothing to do. Poverty is high, and morale is low.

My main pie is the Methodist Church up the road from me. Being a Christian played a part in this obviously, but I was also totally captivated by the drive and vision that the church members had to reach out into the local community. By outreach I am not talking about evangelicals walking the streets trying to get people into church. The motivation and objective behind their vision is to provide community facilities and services to improve the lives of the individuals living in the area. Their aim is to build a community centre on the grounds alongside the church. They want to do this in partnership with the local forum, a group made up of people from the local community. I also have a finger in this forum pie. This facility would dramatically change the lives of the local folk, they need it badly.

This past two weeks have been made even busier by these ventures, but they are a labour of love.

To me, community spirit is a hugely powerful thing. Something society today seems to have lost. On my estate there is a rising, a bubbling. Its only faint, but its there. And its growing. And when you see it its inspiring. The picture above was taken at our sponsored walk through a local country park. For me, this picture captured the essence of community spirit. Local twits had burnt a fallen tree. We helped each other climb over it. 'Each other' being people working in the local school, church folk, children, forum members, friends... After the walk we had organised a free BBQ for anyone and everyone, with free bouncy castles for the kids.

Free?!?!? weren't we trying to raise money not spend it? Indeed we was, but again, the best way to change lives is to demonstrate it. Community spirit is about everyone, looking out for everyone else. Sharing with each other, socialising with each other. Cutting down the divisions. Its hard to convey to people that this is not a church project, its an everyone project. But were getting there slowly. Feasibility studies have been done, as has an official survey been taken. Final plans are being drawn up to be submitted for planning permission. We have a professional fundraiser. Its all quite exciting :)

The reason for mentioning it here? well I guess its too much of a part of me not to mention!

I think a lot of it comes from the same place within me that wants to be a nurse.

Making lives better. Healing hurts. Saving lives.

And if this sounds all selfless and goody goody, do not be mistaken. A lot of this is very selfish! I get a real kick out of it, I love it. I feel alive when I see a positive difference being made to someone else's life. I get excited about the prospect of joining forces with others to make good stuff happen.

“Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.” Henry Ford

The perfectionist in me...

I hate perfectionists. No-body is ever perfect, and it can drive somebody insane to accept nothing less than perfect. What ever happened to good enough, excellent, or a good try? Perfectionists often get depressed, as everything falls short of their expectations. They never finish a project because they will always think of ways to improve it. They are false, and pretentious. When we aim too high, we end up with our heads stuck in the clouds. Perfectionists procrastinate because they are scared of imperfection.

I have perfectionism in me. Its one thing I really dislike about myself. I had forgotten all about it until I came on here to write a post. I was cross with myself, because the reason I haven't wrote anything in 2 weeks is because I haven't had the time to write a 'decent' post. A 'perfect' post you could say, although I am fully aware that none of my posts are perfect. It is the same with a lot of what I do. And whilst is it important not to settle for second best, best isn't always perfect. When I write an essay I read text book upon text book, and a vast array of nursing journals. I choose complicated scenarios, and avoid the obvious subject matters. I think around the subject, and print off pages and pages of what seems to be valuable research. All in a quest to write a perfect essay. But I noticed something last term, the more I tried to attain perfection, the worse my grades got. I passed everything, but some of the best work came early on in the course when I kept things in perspective.

On the wards I put my all into my nursing, but to be honest the days when I got the best feedback from the other nurses were the days I nursed from the heart. Those days felt good, and I looked good. I don't mean to say I looked attractive, but I radiated something that made the people around me feel better. The days I worried about doing everything perfectly, were also the days I was too preoccupied to interact well with my patients.

Of course certain things in nursing must be perfect. Take drug calculations for instance. There's no room for imperfection there, especially with children. And its no good doing skills less than accurately. Non maleficence (to do no harm) is the main ethical principle in nursing. And if less than perfection means harm of any degree then perfection it must be.

So I am therefore glad i got 20/20 in my nursing calculations exam. Ok its only level 1, but I really wanted perfection knowing the importance of accurate mathematical skills. On the wards you can use a calculator, but you never know when you might not have one and have a tricky dose to work out.

Imperfections of the past 2 weeks are vast, comprising of practically everything else. I have fallen short of doing my homework on time, I have said the wrong thing on several occasions, and have been close to falling asleep in several lectures.

I am not telling you to just get by in life, to only do what is needed. To aim to easily attainable standards. I'm certainly not perfect, and could be giving less than perfect advice. But I think you should always try and be the best you can be. You should always aim high. You should always put your heart and soul into the things you do. But you shouldn't do it to be perfect, or to do something perfectly. You will always fall short in the end, a lot of damage can be done on the way.

So here I am with my imperfect blog post and my imperfect life. My typos and hard to read sentences. My voice spoken at the wrong time, sometimes using the wrong words. But I have got something from it, have you?